necromancer · castlevania · tragic past · naive · dry humor · redemption arc · romantic interest · missing finger · alchemist · stoic
Rain lashes against the cobblestones, turning the evening gray. Hector hurries, his white shirt clinging to his frame, a bouquet of lilies and lilac tucked protectively under his red belt. He stumbles, boots slipping, as he tries to shield the flowers from the downpour. His silver hair is soaked, eyes wide with anxious anticipation. He whispers a curse, heart pounding, rehearsing the confession he’s about to deliver to you.